The Meaning of Strange
by Hime Temari
Summary: The Winchester brothers' journey, with an unexpected addition. The boys uncover a case they cannot solve, but it changes their lives forever. A story that examines love, friendship, family and what it means to be human.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural nor any of its characters. The story of the Winchesters was not written by me.**

**Episode One**

The sickening sound of splintering wood as Sam was sent flying across the room and into the wardrobe behind him was the only warning Dean had before the ghost was upon him. Spinning around, Dean raised the rock salt-loaded rifle, his trained eyes searching for the supernatural entity that had attacked his brother. "Sammy, are you alright?" The only response he got from his younger brother was a groan of pain. There was no sign of the ghost that had thrown Sam across the room, and every hair on Dean's body stood on end in anticipation of the attack he knew would eventually come. A soft whimper coming from the bed reminded Dean of the room's other occupant, the ghost's intended victim. She sounded frightened and part of him wanted to look back over his shoulder to offer some reassurance; but the other part – the part that operated on the killer instincts he had garnered over the many years of being a hunter – told him not to allow himself to be distracted.

He didn't listen to that part.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dean opened his mouth to assure the girl everything would be fine, but instead of the face he was expecting to see, Dean found himself staring into the dead, grey-rimmed eyes of Nick Jesson. Before his startled senses could react, the gun was flung from his hands and Dean Winchester found himself thrust back, away from the bed. His body was thrown against the closed door, his back colliding sharply with the wooden barrier, the brass-coloured knob digging painfully into his flesh. Dean struggled to regain his balance and began sweeping the ground for any sign of his weapon, knowing the ghost would be going for the girl next. For the first time that night, a sense of panic grew in the pit of his stomach and Dean suddenly feared the worst. Rather than spot his weapon, Dean saw the spirit of Nick Jesson making a beeline for Lily Symmonds who was still sitting upright in her bed, her shiny, brown eyes as wide as saucers.

"Sam! Shoot it!"

"I can't find my gun!"

Cursing under his breath, Dean tried to spot something iron with which he could gank the son-of-a-bitch, but before either Winchester brother could do anything, it happened again.

Lily screamed, but no matter how much the ghost tried to reach her, it was somehow held at bay, as though an invisible wall had suddenly been erected between the girl and the ghost. Dean frowned, tilting his head to the side as he watched the ghost struggling in vain against the invisible barrier.

"What the hell?"

**36 Hours Earlier. . .**

"We should be heading over to those coordinates in Dad's journal, not wasting our time with this case," Sam argued as he read over the newspaper clipping in his hands once more.

"Come on Sam, we're in California. Might as well check this out before we go rushing off after Dad. We'll find him, ok?" Dean responded, fiddling with the radio in search of some good music.

"But that's my point. By the time we realise that this is not our type of case, Dad will probably have moved somewhere else."

"What makes you so sure this isn't our type of case?" Dean asked pointedly. His brother Sam jabbed at the newspaper clipping before summarising the article's content in easy to understand bullet form. "A couple is murdered in their beds; doors and windows locked; no signs of break-in; and the only other person in the house was the daughter, who is alive and unharmed. The daughter did it. Case closed."

Dean was not so easily persuaded and he casually glanced over at his younger brother, his eyebrow raised in accusation. "Did you forget to read the part about there being NO physical evidence linking the girl to the murder? The parents had their throats slit; there was blood everywhere but not a drop on her or anywhere near her room. Don't you think that's a little weird? And besides, why would she hang around after calling the cops if she was the murderer?"

"Guilt?" Sam suggested with a shrug. His older brother shot him a reprimanding glare, causing Sam to finally give in. "Alright alright, we'll check it out." Silence filled the space between the pair, their thoughts drowned out by the purr of the Impala's engine as it covered the miles to Redding. Pressing his lips together, Dean mused over his brother's eagerness to find their father and work together to track down the thing that had killed not only their mother, but also Sam's girlfriend Jessica. He wanted that too, but he could never turn his back on an innocent person in need of help, and though it didn't seem that way now, Dean knew Sam felt the same.

"Look Sam, I get it. You've just lost Jess, Dad is missing and that thing that killed Mom is still out there; but this girl might be innocent, hell she might even be next on the list of murders. We'll go in, have a look around and if we don't find anything then we'll head straight out again."

"Yeah ok, you're right. I'm sorry," Sam conceded with a sigh.

"So we're good?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome, start looking for the FBI badges."

* * *

><p>Pulling up outside the double story, colonial-style house with the manicured lawns and low, white-picket fences, Sam and Dean got out of their 1967 Chevy Impala, adjusting their ties and suit jackets as they strode up the curving footpath to the door where they were warned against unauthorised entry by the yellow police tape across the entrance. Ignoring it, the Winchester brothers ducked beneath the tape and confidently strode up to the first uniformed cop they saw, flashing their fake FBI badges before he could even open his mouth to ask who they were.<p>

"I'm Agent Brandon, this is my partner, Agent Finnegan. Who's in charge of this crime scene?" Dean asked, his sharp and crisp tone matching his suit. The policeman eyed the two in awe, clearly buying into their fake badges and hired suits. "Uh, that would be Detective O'Hagan. He's upstairs in the main bedroom where the murders happened. It's right at the end of the hall."

Sam and Dean followed his directions and casually crossed to the stairs, trying to blend in while at the same time seeming official enough so as to not draw questions. As they walked side-by-side down the carpeted hallway, the brothers began carefully examining every surface area for signs of supernatural activity. When they came to the first bedroom, Sam stopped and looked inside. Tugging on his brother's sleeve, Sam dragged Dean back and into the room with him. A forensic technician was carefully combing the bedroom which clearly belonged to the daughter. A few stuffed animals were arranged on a box in the corner; the shelves were stacked with books ranging from a variety of classic authors such as Dickens, Wilde, James and the Brōntes – none of whom Dean recognised but a few that Sam could appreciate – and in one corner of the wall there hung a corkboard upon which various photographs were tacked. Sam made his way over to the corkboard while Dean paused to address the technician.

"Did you find anything?"

"Nothing incriminating."

"Could she have cleaned up before the cops arrived?"

"If she did then she didn't do it in here. No bleach smell or any other signs of cleaning, but we're still checking other parts of the house."

Sam returned from having looked through the photos, but when Dean gave him a questioning look he merely shrugged and handed him what he gathered to be the latest photograph taken.

"Hey, she's hot!" Dean exclaimed, eyeing the smiling blonde in the photo.

"She's 18, Dean," Sam pointed out, but Dean was unfazed by this information; instead he turned the photo back to Sam, as though another look would change his brother's opinion. "She's still hot."

Rolling his eyes, Sam continued to make his point: "Regardless, she seems to be just a normal teenage girl. If she did do this, what could have made her suddenly flip out and murder her own parents?"

"Possession maybe?" Dean offered.  
>"No sulphur here."<p>

"Well, let's go see what the parents' room can tell us."

The brothers continued their trek down the hall and arrived to see a man wearing tan slacks and a light blue button-up shirt talking to two more forensic scientists. As the two made their way over to him, the man noticed their presence and stopped mid-sentence, turning to address them.

"Can I help you two gentlemen?"

"Yeah, we're with the Federal Bureau. Are you Detective O'Hagan."

"That's me. What are the Feds doing getting involved in a case like this?"

"This case has some unusual circumstances. We just want to make sure the wrong person doesn't go to prison," Sam responded. Detective O'Hagan did not seem convinced and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he eyed the two. Noting his reluctance, Dean quickly pressed on, hoping to distract the man from the oddness of their appearance. "Find anything that might lead us to the killer?"

"Not yet. So far our only suspect is the girl."

"Where is she?" Sam asked, flipping out his notepad and pen.

"Staying with a friend until her family gets here. We've put a detail on her just to be sure she doesn't try to bail." He gave Sam the address who quickly jotted it down.

"You didn't arrest her?" Dean queried curiously. Detective O'Hagan pulled a face at the suggestion, clearly troubled by the idea. "We don't have anything concrete to connect her to the murders, and the psychiatric evaluation didn't fit a deranged, troubled teenager who could lash out like this. I thought it best we try figure out what the hell happened here before we lock a traumatised young girl in a prison cell. Still, I sent two of my men to watch her just in case."

"Mind if we take a look around?"

"Sure. Just don't touch anything."

Sam and Dean moved over to the bed. The bodies had been removed a while ago, but the blood stains showed where they had been when it happened.

"Lot of blood here, but no shoe prints," Sam whispered.

"No sulphur either. I'm going to check something else. Am I clear?" Sam glanced over his shoulder, confirming that no one was nearby enough to notice what they were doing. "Yeah you're good." Dean reached into his pocket and removed what appeared to be a supped-up walkman with all sorts of rods and dials protruding from its plastic casing.

"What is that?" Sam asked, bewildered by the spectacle in Dean's hands.

"EMF detector. Home-made," Dean responded with a proud grin, ignoring his brother's unimpressed expression. Slipping the headphones onto his head, Dean held the device over the bed and switched it on. Instantly his ears were filled with a high-pitched whine, a grave expression replacing his previously smug one. Glancing sideways at Sam, Dean gave a barely perceptible nod.

"It's positive. Looks like we're dealing with an angry spirit."

* * *

><p>The first thing the brothers did upon reaching their motel was strip off what Dean called their 'monkey suits' and change into their regular clothing. While Sam set to work on his laptop, Dean cracked open a beer and began pacing the length of the room.<p>

"So traces of EMF in the parents' room and in the hallway leading up to the daughter's room, but nothing inside her room. So, what, the spirit kills the parents, goes for the daughter, but leaves her alive?"

"I don't know Dean, maybe."

"Now the question is, did the ghost kill her parents to get revenge on them or on her?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out. As far as I can tell, there's nothing suspicious that jumps out in the family history." Sam's fingers continued to fly across the keyboard, but suddenly he stopped.

"What did you find?" Dean asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and taking a swig of ice-cold beer.

"Nothing. There haven't been any sudden or horrific deaths in the family in the past five years."

"Well that gives us squat. Looks like we'll have to go to the source itself and talk to Lily, see if she knows anything."

"What makes you think she won't beat us with a stick when we ask her if she knows of any dead people who might want to harm her family?" Sam asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Dean, however, was too busy donning his leather jacket and slipping his fake ID into his pocket to take note. "Only one way to find out. Let's go."

* * *

><p>The drive to the address Sam had been given brought the Winchesters to a house similar in style to the Symmonds' house, being only a few streets away and in the same neighbourhood. The brothers walked up to the front door and knocked, noting the car parked across the street while they waited for someone to answer. No doubt the police detail Detective O'Hagan had mentioned. The two men seated in the car were watching them carefully, but the boys kept their hands in their pockets, ready to whip out their fake IDs should the need arise. The door was finally opened by a dark-haired, teenage girl who gave them both a once-over before asking who they were. After introducing themselves by their false names, Dean asked if they could talk to Lily. At this the girl frowned, a sad look entering her eyes.<p>

"Haven't you people asked enough questions? Lily woke up to find her parents dead, she's worried she might be next and all you cops can think about is trying to pin this on her! I've known her my whole life; she's innocent!"

"Whoa whoa, slow down," Dean interrupted, holding up his hands as a way of showing he meant no harm. "What's your name?"

"Amanda," the girl replied, lowering her eyes as though she were ashamed of her outburst, but still blocking the entrance, her will to defend her friend still as strong.

"Amanda, we believe you. We believe Lily is innocent. We just want to help prove that so please, let us talk to her," Sam explained in his calmest, most sincere voice – a trait that had always worked for him when talking to people. It did not fail him now; Amanda slowly stepped to the side to allow them entrance. They followed her through the cool interior of the house to an upstairs bedroom. Amanda paused outside the closed door and lightly tapped against the wood, pressing her ear to the door to hear her friend's response. "Lily, some men from the FBI are here to see you. They want to help." Nothing but silence came from the other side of the door, and Amanda turned to the brothers with a shrug. "She's been quiet since she arrived, sometimes she doesn't hear us the first time. It should be alright if you just go in."

The brothers thanked her and waited until she had retired downstairs before slowly opening the door and entering the room. Their first look at Lily in the flesh made both brothers stop in their tracks. She was sitting on the window seat, her arm resting on the sill and propping her chin up while she stared outside. Her hair was long and blonde, shining gold where the sun touched it. Hearing their entrance, Lily turned to look at them, dazzling them both with her dark brown eyes, shining like jewels in their frames of thick lashes. The gentle curve of her cheeks were lightly tinted a rose pink colour, matching the colour of her full lips.

It took a moment for the brothers to recover their senses, and only then did they notice the slight puffiness beneath her eyes from a recent bout of crying and the dried, salty tracks on her cheeks. Dean opened his mouth to address her, but only managed an awkward squeak that caused him to instantly shut his mouth again, glancing sideways at his brother with a baffled frown. Sam, seeing his struggle to regain the ability to speak and knowing the extent of influence the female sex had over him, stepped forward to address Lily.

"Miss Symmonds, we're very sorry to bother you at a time like this, but we're here to help you, and if you have a few moments we'd just like to ask you a couple of questions."

"I already gave the police my official statement. I don't know what happened," Lily replied. Sam and Dean looked at one another, wondering how best to tackle the problem without revealing too much. "We're investigating another avenue. Please, it will only take a moment."

Lily smiled, looking each man in the eye before motioning for them to proceed.

"Did you notice anything unusual last night? Any strange noises, flickering lights?" A frown creased Lily's forehead, but she responded nonetheless. "No, nothing. Like I told the other cops, the only time I realised something was wrong was when my parents didn't come down for breakfast. I went up to check on them, and found them. . .like that."

"I'm sorry," Dean added suddenly, and genuinely meaning it. He could see from the aged look in her eyes that her parents' deaths had affected her more than she allowed to show through in her expression or tone of voice. Lily's gaze focussed on him, her eyes softening slightly as she offered him a small smile of thanks. Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise at his brother's empathy, but continued with his line of questioning. "Has anyone you know died recently? Any family or friends?"

Again the frown, and this time she hesitated with her answer. "Please, it's important," Dean threw in, hoping to persuade her there was good reason for the question. Dean's plea seemed to affect her more than Sam's gentle tone, and she lowered her gaze while she thought.

"Uh. . .yeah, a boy from school that I. . .knew. . .passed away about a month ago in an accident." She seemed uncomfortable talking about the incident, but before either brother could press her for more she brushed a hand across her face and shook her head. "I didn't know him that well. You might get more out of Amanda."

"What was his name?" Dean asked, conceding with her silent plea to stop their line of questioning.

"Nick. Nick Jesson. Why is this important again?"

"We'll explain later," said Sam, quickly jotting down the name along with everything else she had said. "Thanks for your time."

Sam moved to leave, but Dean lingered, moving closer instead to where she was sitting. He crouched down on his haunches so that he was closer to her eye level. "Your friend mentioned you were worried about being next to die, but I promise you now my brother and I won't let anything happen to you, ok? You're safe with us around."

Lily was surprised by his words, but she nodded mutely, too overwhelmed to respond but hoping her gratefulness showed in her eyes. Dean rose up to his full height, slipped Lily a card with his contact details and walked out behind Sam, ignoring his 'what-the-hell-was-that-about' look and going instead to find Amanda. They found her in the kitchen and accepted her offer of lemonade, seating themselves at the kitchen table.

"We wanted to ask you about Nick Jesson. Lily said you might know more about him than her," Dean started, taking charge once more now that he was no longer in Lily's presence. He folded his hands on the red and white checked tablecloth and put on his most stern expression to show how serious he was.

"Nick Jesson? That bastard is dead. How is he relevant?" Amanda asked while busy pouring drinks for them all.

"Uh. . .we're just trying to. . .to figure out what frame of mind Lily is in right now," Sam responded, taking a stab in the dark. "It's all part of ruling her out as a suspect," he continued, hoping she would buy into his hasty excuse. She did, and after placing down a tall glass of lemonade in front of each brother, Amanda sat down across from them and proceeded with her narrative.

"Well the only reason I know more about Nick than Lily does is because I was the first to realise what he was doing."

"Which is. . .?"

Amanda leaned forward as if to emphasise the flare of anger burning in her eyes. "He was stalking her! I mean, at first it started out with him gawking at her at school. Nick was a senior who graduated last year so we didn't really hang out in the same crowds, but it wasn't unusual for Lily to draw attention from all sorts of guys. When I noticed he started to show up in our usual spots, I mentioned it to Lily, but she wasn't concerned at first. She insisted Nick was harmless, but he was starting to creep some of us out and so I confronted him, told him to leave Lily alone."

"Did he?" Dean asked.

"No! Things only got worse from there. He started following Lily home and he became bolder when she was alone."

"Didn't she tell her parents?"

"Not at first, but when she started seeing him watching her from across the road she went to her father. Mr Symmonds got angry and confronted Nick too. He warned Nick to stay away from Lily, but this only made him more persistent." Amanda paused, nervously chewing her lower lip.

"What happened?" Dean pressed, determined that she continue.

"One night, Lily was in her room getting changed for bed when she spotted Nick at her window. She didn't let him know she had seen him and went straight to her father with the news. He was furious, and rushed outside to try and find Nick. Nick must have heard the front door open because by the time Lily's dad made it to her window, Nick was already running down the street. Mr Symmonds shouted to him that he was going to call the police and make sure Nick never saw Lily again. That's when the accident happened. Nick ran into the street without looking and got hit by a car. I suppose it's wrong for me to say this, but I'm glad he can't get to Lily anymore. Who knows what he might have done to her."

Sam and Dean shot knowing glances at one another before rising from their seats, thanking Amanda for the information before walking out to their car.

"So what do you think? Kid's ghost stalking her from beyond the grave?" Sam asked as they reached the car and climbed in.

"Probably," Dean replied, turning the key in the ignition, causing the Impala to roar to life beneath them. "And he probably got rid of her parents because they threatened to stand in his way."

"So we salt and burn the bones?"

"Yeah. Let's go find out where they are, and we'll end this tonight."

* * *

><p>"So get this," Sam began as he left the coroner's offices and approached his brother who was leaning against the Impala. "Turns out Nick Jesson was cremated after his funeral."<p>

"You're kidding! That means the son-of-a-bitch is attached to something else."

"Yeah. It's getting late. I think one of us should watch Lily tonight while the other goes to Nick's old house and. . .I don't know, burns everything of his that's left."

"Alright, you take care of that. I'll keep an eye on Lily."

Sam's mouth pulled up in a smirk and Dean did not fail to notice. "What?"

"Nothing! It's just I can tell you like her."

"Shut up Sam. Let's get back to the motel so we can get ready." The two climbed into their car and drove off, Sam grinning teasingly and Dean scowling in defence.

* * *

><p>At 12:15 a.m. a call came through from Sam. Dean, who was parked further down the road so as to not alert the cops already keeping watch but still close enough so he could do his own surveillance, answered his phone without taking his eyes off Lily's window.<p>

"What took you so long Sam? I've been out here for hours."

"I had to wait for Nick's parents to go to sleep before I could sneak in. So it seems his parents are not the sentimental type. They've given away all of his clothing and cleared out most of his room, except for a few personal items. I've got them all with me, but I did also manage to find an old shoe box that was hidden in a vent underneath his bed. You'll never believe what was inside."

"What?" Dean asked, craning his neck to get a different view of the house, relaxing only once he was satisfied there was nothing to be seen.

"Pictures of Lily, a piece of gum that I can only assume Lily had been chewing and a diary describing in detail what Lily had done on each day."

Dean screwed his face up in disgust, but congratulated Sam on his find and instructed him to burn everything. Satisfied they had done what they could for now, Dean settled back in his seat, the leather squeaking as he slid down into a more comfortable position. Less alert now, but still adamant about making sure everything was ok, Dean allowed his thoughts to roam where they will, occasionally recalling Lily's face as a way to pass the long hours of night.

* * *

><p>"So, did anything happen?" Sam asked the following morning when Dean returned to the motel.<p>

"Nope. Looks like whatever it was that was keeping him here, you got rid of it," Dean replied, reaching for his bag and carelessly tossing in whatever clothes were still lying about.

"Good. By the way Dean, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For doubting your instincts. I was so eager to find Dad that I didn't want to see the signs. Lily might have been in big trouble if you hadn't picked up on her case."

"Forget it Sammy. We finished the job and that's all that matters."

Sam paused in his packing and looked up at Dean. "Do you want to make a stop on the way, say goodbye to Lily?"

"No," Dean answered before Sam could even complete his sentence.

"Come on Dean, after your little speech yesterday, you should at least tell her she'll be alright now. And you know, the police don't know what we do. Maybe we should lead them down a false trail so Lily can get on with her life."

Dean straightened, having not considered the possibility of murder charges still hanging over Lily's head, even if they had stopped the real killer. "You're right Sam. We should wrap things up properly."

The Winchesters drove over to Amanda's house after packing the car and strode up the familiar path to the front door, but Sam paused and looked back. "Hey Dean, the cops are gone." Dean looked over his shoulder and saw his brother was right; the police that had been put on surveillance were gone. "Strange," Dean admitted, but did not let it stop him from knocking on the door. When Amanda answered the door, she seemed surprised to see them.

"Lily's not here," she responded when asked about her friend's whereabouts. "She left about an hour ago. Said she wanted to get some of her things. The cops that were watching the house took her. Was there something important you wanted to tell her?"

"No. We were just leaving town, wanted to tell her we think we've gotten another lead and she'll be cleared soon." This news pleased Amanda and she promised to tell Lily when she returned. The brothers walked back to their car, Sam asking Dean if he was sure about leaving without saying goodbye.

"It's better this way. We'll just write some bogus report and – " but Dean was cut short by the ringing of his cell phone. When he answered, a frantic, familiar voice came through from the other end.

"I just saw something and I need your help!"

"Lily? What happened?"

"I don't know. . .I was just. . .and I saw. . .he was. . .but it's impossible!"

"Ok just calm down, we're on our way." Dean hung up and turned to his brother who was waiting impatiently to hear the news.

"Sam I don't think this is over yet."

* * *

><p>"Where is she?" Dean demanded as he walked into the living room of the Symmonds house. The two policemen turned to them as they approached.<p>

"Upstairs. Something spooked her real good and she's locked herself in her room. We can't get her to come out."

Dean was already hurrying up the stairs by the time they finished their sentence, Sam following closely behind. When he reached Lily's room, Dean knocked firmly and called out her name. It wasn't long before he heard the click of the lock and the door slowly opened. Lily faced them looking rather sheepish, though nothing could mask the fear and uncertainty in her eyes.

"What happened?" Dean asked, relieved to see her alright, though he would never admit it.

"I'm sorry for making you come here. I overreacted. I didn't get much sleep last night, so I'm probably just tired and seeing things. Really, I'm fine."

Dean placed his hands on her shoulders and lowered his face so that he could look into her eyes. "Tell us what you saw," he pressed. Lily sighed softly, letting them into her room before sitting down on the edge of her bed. Sam and Dean noted how the curtains were drawn, casting the room into dim shadows.

"I saw. . .I _thought _I saw Nick."

Alarm coursed through both brothers, but Dean was the first to launch into a series of questions. "When? Where?" Lily was shocked by his response to her confession, the crease between her eyebrows deepening in confusion. "He wasn't really there, he couldn't have been. Nick is dead. I must have just imagined I saw him," she insisted.

"Lily please. This is important. Trust me."

She pressed her lips together, her eyes narrowing as she stared mutely at Dean, then shifted her gaze over to Sam who stood watching the scenario unfold from the sidelines. With a sigh, she conceded.

"I saw him through the window, just before I called you. But I'm telling you I must have been reliving what happened in the past. It was the shock." Even though she continued to insist it was nothing more than an illusion, both brothers could tell she didn't really buy into it. Dean turned away from her and ran a hand over his mouth while he thought of his next move. Clearly they hadn't destroyed whatever was keeping Nick's spirit around. Making a decision, Dean turned back to Lily.

"Lily, I need you to do something."

"What is it?" she asked, raising her eyes to his.

"I need you to stay here tonight. I know it must be difficult for you, but we'll be here with you the whole time."

"I don't understand. What's going on?"

"We can't explain that right now, but you have to trust us, ok? We're only doing this for your own safety," Sam responded, picking up on his brother's thought pattern without him having to say it aloud.

"You think I'm in danger?" she asked, the fear returning to her eyes in full force.

"Not if we're here," Dean assured her, "but we need to end this." Both men could tell she had many questions she was burning to ask, but she stopped herself, silently accepting the strangeness of their request. Dean offered her his most confident grin.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of you. I promised, didn't I?"

* * *

><p>Lily fell asleep shortly after dark, exhausted by the past two days' events. The Winchester brothers set up their gear downstairs, making sure they had a good supply of salt, both in the form of ammunition and in just plain protection.<p>

"Shouldn't we salt the doors to her room?" Sam asked, holding up the bottle of salt.

"No. The asshole might not show up if he can't get to her," Dean replied, loading his shotgun with rock-salt shells. Then began the waiting, and the two sat downstairs in silence, listening to every squeak and groan for indication that Nick Jesson had arrived, taking turns to go up and check on Lily. Sitting in the dark, Dean used his torch to check the time on his watch. It was just past 10 p.m.

"How long is this bastard going to take?"

No sooner had the words left Dean's mouth that the light on his torch started to flicker and the breath that left his mouth clouded the air in front of his face for a moment before dispersing. Glancing at one another, the brothers grabbed their weapons and took the stairs two at a time, bursting into Lily's room.

What they saw came as a surprise.

The ghost of Nick Jesson stood at her bedside, looking like a mime caught in a glass box. His hands were pounding against the invisible barrier keeping him from reaching his prize, who was still oblivious to what was happening around her. Nick's spirit ignored the brothers and let out an unearthly howl of despair and disgust that he was somehow being thwarted, but Dean would not let him hang around, taking aim and firing at Nick's head. The second the salt touched his ethereal body, he disappeared; but the shot had woken Lily, and she bolted into an upright position, dazed and confused and frightened.

"What's going on?"

"There's no time. You've gotta get out of here, now!" Dean ordered, keeping his finger on the trigger but taking care to keep the barrel lowered so as to not scare Lily. She, however, did not obey, but rather demanded they explain what was happening.

"Listen to me," Dean shouted above the sound of her endless stream of questions. "You have to go with Sam."

The sickening sound of splintering wood as Sam was sent flying across the room and into the wardrobe behind him was the only warning Dean had before the ghost was upon him. Spinning around, Dean raised the rock salt-loaded rifle, his trained eyes searching for the supernatural entity that had attacked his brother. "Sammy, are you alright?" The only response he got from his younger brother was a groan of pain. There was no sign of the ghost that had thrown Sam across the room, and every hair on Dean's body stood on end in anticipation of the attack he knew would eventually come. A soft whimper coming from the bed reminded Dean of Lily's presence. She sounded frightened, and part of him wanted to look back over his shoulder to offer some reassurance; but the other part – the part that operated on the killer instincts he had garnered over the many years of being a hunter – told him not to allow himself to be distracted.

He didn't listen to that part.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dean opened his mouth to assure the girl everything would be fine, but instead of the face he was expecting to see, Dean found himself staring into the dead, grey-rimmed eyes of Nick Jesson. Before his startled senses could react, the gun was flung from his hands and Dean Winchester found himself thrust back, away from the bed. His body was thrown against the closed door, his back colliding sharply with the wooden barrier, the brass-coloured knob digging painfully into his flesh. Dean struggled to regain his balance and began sweeping the ground for any sign of his weapon, knowing the ghost would be going for the girl next. For the first time that night, a sense of panic grew in the pit of his stomach, and Dean suddenly feared the worst. Rather than spot his weapon, Dean saw the spirit of Nick Jesson making a beeline for Lily Symmonds who was still sitting upright in her bed, her shiny, brown eyes as wide as saucers.

"Sam! Shoot it!"

"I can't find my gun!"

Cursing under his breath, Dean tried to spot something iron with which he could gank the son-of-a-bitch, but before either Winchester brother could do anything, it happened again.

Lily screamed, but no matter how much the ghost tried to reach her, it was somehow held at bay, as though an invisible wall had suddenly been erected between the girl and the ghost. Dean frowned, tilting his head to the side as he watched the ghost struggling in vain against the invisible barrier.

"What the hell?"

Suddenly a shot rang out from behind him, and the ghost was momentarily dispersed once more. This time Dean wasted no time in retrieving the salt from his bag and pouring out a line in front of the door and windows, effectively keeping Nick's spirit from entering. Finally turning back to Lily, he found her out of bed and facing them with a bewildered look on her face. She seemed poised to launch into a tirade about what had just happened, but Dean beat her to it.

"What the hell did you just do?"

Under normal circumstances, Sam might have had something to say about the way Dean addressed her, especially considering what had just happened; but even he was surprised and confused, and merely stood back to watch. Lily faltered a moment, her jaw opening and closing a few times as she struggled to come to terms with what was happening. "What did _I _do? What did _you _do?! I just saw Nick Jesson appear and disappear right in front of my eyes. Nick Jesson is _dead_!" Lily shouted, her voice rising and falling with each emphasis. The reality of her words sunk in, and she ran both her hands through her hair, leaving it a tangled mess. "How is that possible? What is going on here?" She was becoming hysterical, and Sam finally felt it was time to step in.

"Look Lily, I know how you must be feeling, but you saw for yourself that it's very possible." When she didn't react, Sam pressed on, cautiously approaching her. "We're not really FBI agents, ok. My real name is Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean. We're hunters."

"Hunters?" she queried, finally emerging from her mounting hysteria to hear what he was saying.

"We hunt supernatural creatures. Ghosts, werewolves, vampires, that sort of thing," Dean explained. Lily closed her eyes, breathing in deeply while holding her hands up for them to stop. "Wait wait wait, so you're saying all those things are real?"

"Yes."

"This is unbelievable," she whispered, flopping down onto the edge of her bed.

"We don't have time for this. We need to find out what's keeping that son-of-a-bitch here," Dean stated matter-of-factly. "Now do you have anything that belonged to Nick once? Anything at all?"

Lily slowly shook her head, her eyes staring blankly at the floor, but suddenly she stopped and looked up. "Wait. Yes, I do have something of his." Jumping up, she ran over to her dresser and began rummaging through the drawers. "Nick used to send me stuff all the time – flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals. Once I knew they were coming from him I got rid of them all, but there is something I still have. It was one of his first gifts, and I thought it was quite pretty so I kept it. I must have forgotten about it. Here it is!" she exclaimed, withdrawing her hand and holding up a silver necklace.

"Sam you know what to do."

Sam nodded and walked over to Lily, taking the necklace from her before hurrying over to the dustbin. While he was building a fire, Nick appeared again in the open doorway, standing on the opposite side of the salt line which barred his entry. Lily gasped in surprise when she saw him, but Dean stepped between her and Nick, raising his weapon. "Can't get to her now can you, you bastard?" Dean laughed, feeling some satisfaction that he was pissing the spirit off, but only because he felt he deserved revenge for the beating he got. He felt Lily grab onto the back of his shirt while peering uncertainly at the ghost. "Don't worry, he can't get to you."

Sam tossed the necklace into the fire and waited for the metal to start glowing hot; but as he looked up something caught his eye. Moving slowly, Sam was careful not to blink, afraid the illusion might fade.

"Dean."

"What is it?" his brother replied, not taking his eyes from the ghost in the doorway.

"Dean you need to see this." Hearing the shake in Sam's voice, Dean looked over to where he was standing. Sam waited beside the window, his eyes staring fixatedly at Lily, who had not registered the brief conversation that had taken place. Dean crossed the room to where his brother was standing, lowering his weapon once more.

"Look," Sam instructed, turning his brother so that he was now facing Lily. "What am I loo-" he started, but stopped when he saw what Sam was referring to. Pale moonlight was flooding in through the window, alighting on the spot where Lily was standing. Under normal circumstances Dean might have noticed the way the light made her pale skin glow an unearthly hue, or how the gold in her hair shimmered; but instead he noticed how the moonlight reflected off of the strange dome that surrounded Lily.

"Sam what is that?" he whispered.

"Beats me. But I think that's what stopped the ghost before. We couldn't see it before, but the moonlight bouncing off of it makes it visible."

Lily suddenly noticed something was wrong and turned her gaze to the two brothers. She frowned when she saw them staring. "What's wrong?"

"How are you doing that?" Dean asked.

"Doing what?" Lily asked, exasperated by their continual references to something she was apparently doing. Dean slowly walked towards her, tilting his head from the one side to the other as he attempted to analyse the dome or barrier or whatever it was. He stopped when he was close to it and slowly reached out his hand, but it encountered nothing but air. Dean looked back at Sam whose frowning face confirmed the same suspicions and worry he felt.

Nick's spirit suddenly self combusted and was gone in a matter of seconds, the fire in the dustbin having finally burnt up the necklace. The brothers breathed a collective sigh of relief that they had managed to find what was keeping Nick around and Lily, sensing the tension leaving her guardians, stared at the empty doorway questioningly.

"Is he coming back?"

"No, he's gone for good now. You're safe," Sam explained, but Dean turned to face her, his suspicions of the girl heightened now. "So, are you going to tell us how you stopped that ghost?"

Lily looked from Dean to Sam and back again. "I don't know what you mean."

"Come on we saw what happened. Twice tonight that ghost should have gotten to you, but both times he was stopped by. . .something. What are you? A witch?"

Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead. "A witch? How can I be a witch? I didn't even know these things existed until tonight!"

Dean stared at her long and hard, searching her face for any signs of a lie before finally deciding he believed her. Still, his instincts would not let it go at just that.

"Sammy, a word." Before leaving the room, Dean raised a finger in warning, bringing it close to Lily's face. "Don't move."

Sam and Dean stepped into the hallway, leaving Lily to puzzle over what was happening. Sam folded his arms across his chest, turning to face his brother. "What do you think that was back there?"

"I don't know, but it seemed to function as a barrier of some sort. It kept the ghost from touching her, but didn't stop me."

"Do you know anything that can do that?"

By this point, Lily had tiptoed over to the door that had been left slightly ajar. She pressed her back up against the wall beside the gap in the door, inclining her head so she could hear better. At first she hadn't noticed it, but each time Nick's ghost showed itself, the desire to protect herself had caused a tingling sensation in her chest that until now she had merely dismissed as fear. Now she was uncertain.

"Nothing. It's weird though, Sam, look at her. She's just a girl."

"You know as well as I that most times the things we hunt take the form of innocent human beings."

Lily bit down on her lower lip as she heard Sam's words and doubts began to chase one another around in her head. Breathlessly she waited for Dean to respond. There was something in his eyes, something about the way he promised to protect her that made her feel she could trust him. If he dismissed her as something non-human, she had a feeling her last lifeline would be lost.

"I know that. But we can't just assume she's a monster of some kind without proof."

"And we can't just trust she's not and leave her here where she can possibly hurt other innocent people."

"Fine. Then we do our homework. There must be something we can find in her family history to give us a clue."

"It won't help," Lily interrupted, stepping out into the hallway.

"Were you eavesdropping?" Dean asked, sounding angry, but Sam brushed his question aside with his own. "Why not?"

"The Symmonds weren't my real family," Lily started, wringing her hands nervously. She wasn't sure what she was feeling, but she did know that if there was a chance she might be something other than human, then her best shot at figuring things out lay with these two.

"I was adopted."

* * *

><p>The California sun baked down upon the concrete sidewalks and black tar roads, heating the surface of everything it touched. Lily leaned forward so that her arms were resting against the dashboard of the Impala, her thighs sticking to the leather seats and her back damp with sweat, showing through the white material of her dress. Dean had not spoken to her other than to reprimand her for clambering over the seat to take Sam's front spot when he left the car, and she lay her head in the crook of her arm, facing him while effectively choosing to ignore the annoyed glare he shot her way. "So, you're not FBI agents, and neither are you social workers. How is Sam going to find anything out?"<p>

"By faking it. It's what we do," Dean responded, resting his arm on the open window while his fingers drummed out the same beat as the tune playing on the radio.

"So you're criminals?" she asked, but her tone was merely one of curiosity rather than apprehension or disgust.

"We do what we've gotta do."

Lily lifted her head, propping her chin up with her hand while her eyes remained transfixed on the male-model type man sitting behind the steering wheel. She was used to seeing men with rough exteriors showing their softer sides, but with Dean it was the other way around. He was tough as nails, that much she could tell even though he kept to himself. "What do you think he'll find?"

"Well we know you're not possessed by a demon, so maybe if we can find something in your family history we can figure out why you have this ability to repel ghosts."

"Wait, how do you know I'm not poss-" She was cut short when something wet was splashed onto her face, the moisture clinging to her eyelashes and sliding down into her mouth. Lily slowly wiped her face and brought her hand up to see what was coating it. "What is this?" she asked, half afraid to find out what Dean had doused her with.

"Holy water, which would have hurt like a bitch if you were a demon."

Lily's jaw dropped in disbelief, noting the amused smirk tugging at the corners of Dean's lips. "Really? You had to just toss a capful of holy water into my face without warning? I should slap you," she argued while using her hands to wipe away most of the water. "And you acted like you were so certain I wasn't a demon or whatever _before _you had even confirmed your theory."

Dean shrugged uncaringly. "Eh, if you were a demon you would have tried to kill us by now."  
>"So then you didn't have to douse me with holy water," she stated in a dry, matter-of-fact tone.<p>

"Never hurts to be sure."

Lily pursed her lips, seeing how much he was enjoying teasing her, but not half as bothered by it as she pretended. His poking fun at her made her forget a moment what they were waiting for, but only for a moment.

"Dean?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think I'm really a monster?"

Dean twisted in his seat to look at her, draping his arm along the back of the seat. He had been expecting this question all morning, but when she did not ask it immediately, he began to think she would wait for Sam to return in which case he could deflect the question to his brother who found it much easier to discuss emotional things such as this. But Sam was nowhere in sight and Lily was waiting for his reply, her brown eyes filled with hope.

"Here's what I think. You could be a really gifted human; or you could be some supernatural being and you just didn't know – unlikely, but possible. I just don't know at this point; but what I do know is that you are no monster." Lily's face lit up with a smile at his words, but Dean denied himself the pleasure of smiling back at her, knowing he needed to be completely straight with her. "But I've been thinking about what happened last night and the only explanation I can come up with is that you somehow, unconsciously managed to stop that spirit. Nick came back because he was angry. He wanted you, but your parents stood in the way and had unintentionally caused his death through a series of coincidences. He got his revenge by murdering them, but he couldn't get to you because your ability was keeping him out. I think something inside of you knew you were in danger and reacted to that, even if you weren't aware of it."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Lily asked uncertainly.

"Well in this case yes it was. But see the problem here is that you weren't in control. We don't know anything about this ability. We don't know how powerful it is or how much you can do. And if these abilities can react on their own, something bad might happen, to someone you didn't intend to hurt. Do you understand what I'm saying here?"

Lily slowly nodded, lowering her eyes as she considered the implications of Dean's words. He was right, and the more she thought about it, the more she knew she couldn't stay.

"Let me go with you."

"Absolutely not!" Dean shouted, a little louder and more forcefully than he had intended. Lily's eyes widened in surprise, but she did not relinquish her point. "I can't stay here and I can't tell anyone I know about this. If something were to happen, who would I turn to?" She seemed frightened by being left behind to fend for herself, but Dean thought she was overreacting and waved his hands for her to stop and calm down.

"Relax. We'll figure this out."

The passenger door suddenly opened and Sam bent over to poke his head through the opening, his mouth open and ready to start talking; only when he saw Lily sitting in his spot he stopped. Lily and Sam eyed one another carefully, silently battling wits over who gets to ride up in front. Lily's eyes clearly defied him to say something, but Sam was equally defiant about not squeezing his tall frame into the backseat. With a sigh Lily gave in and against Dean's wishes she moved to slide over the front seat, stepping all over the leather with her brown sandals as she sought leverage. Dean turned to give her a mouthful, but instead got an eyeful of naked flesh as the hem of her dress slid up while she clambered over the seat, exposing the smooth, pale skin on the backs of her thighs. His eyebrows rose in appreciation of the view, but upon catching Sam's eye he quickly forced himself to look away, clearing his throat awkwardly. Sam slid into his usual spot once Lily was deposited in the back once more, frowning when the distinctly feminine smell of rose and vanilla filled his nostrils.

"So I don't think we're going to be figuring this one out anytime soon."

"Told you so," Lily shot from the back, only to be silenced by a look from Dean.

"What did you find?" Dean asked.

"Lily's birthmother was a woman named Claire Owens, who couldn't financially afford to keep Lily and so she gave her up for adoption. The father is listed as unknown."

"Well isn't that nice and familial?" Lily muttered sarcastically, ignoring Dean's look of annoyance at her continual interruptions.

"I could try and trace Lily's mother's genealogy, but it could take a while, not to mention we don't know who her dad was. We're looking at a dead end here."

"Now will you let me come with you?" Lily asked, leaning forward.

"No!" Dean insisted, his voice rising.

"She wants to come with us?" Sam asked, looking between Dean and Lily.

"She can't!" Dean continued to argue, but Sam did not seem as convinced.

"I don't know Dean, it might not be such a bad idea."

"What?! Sam are you hearing yourself? Do you realise what you're suggesting?"

"Dean I understand your fears, but we don't have time to hang around here trying to figure this one out and I think Dad might be able to help us." At the mention of their father, Dean calmed down and considered what his brother was suggesting.

"There's nothing in his journal," Dean pointed out after a moment of silence.

"Yeah but that doesn't mean he won't know what to do. Lily's already proven she can take care of herself."

"Against spirits, but we don't just hunt spirits Sam."

"She doesn't have to get involved. Think about it Dean. We follow the coordinates Dad left us, find him, and then we figure out what to do."

"And if we don't find him?" Dean asked pointedly, though he knew how his brother felt about implying they wouldn't find their father. "We'll find him, Dean. But assuming he's not at the next location we reach, we can just send Lily back until we do find him." This prospect seemed to sound more promising to Dean, who paused in their back and forth argument to muse over the details while Lily remained silent in the background, waiting for her fate to be decided. Dean looked over the seat at her and began laying down the conditions for their travelling together, which included staying out of trouble and placing a substantial limit on the amount of clothes she packed, all of which were drowned out by Lily's excited professions of gratitude for not leaving her to deal with things alone. She threw her arms around Dean's neck, giving him an awkward hug.

"What about your family?"

"Oh don't worry about that. My dad was estranged from his family so I don't think they even know about me, and my mom's family was never really fond of me. I'll just tell them I'm road-tripping with friends for the summer to 'get away from it all'."

As Dean switched on the car and drove off to Lily's house, he found himself already doubting his decision in the face of her eagerness. "You know, you seem way too happy about this. This isn't going to be some fun-filled adventure trip you know. We're dealing with supernatural creatures here, things you've only ever seen in your worst nightmares. You don't know the first thing about what we do."

"Well Dean, we've got plenty of time on the road. Why don't you start telling me?"


End file.
